


Bitter

by imagining_supernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Slight fluff, age gap, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 01:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagining_supernatural/pseuds/imagining_supernatural
Summary: Requested: The reader is in high school and her parents die one day while she's in class. Since she's 18 and has no other relatives, she stays in town until Dean shows up asking questions...





	Bitter

The day they died felt just like any other day. You’d snoozed your alarm about seven times and rushed to get ready for school. Throwing on your favorite band’s t-shirt and some jeans while running a brush through your hair and trying to throw on a little mascara was pretty normal for you. Then you were down the stairs, grabbing a pop tart and yelling to your parents to have a good day on your way out the door.

You wished you had taken the extra minute to hug them and tell them how much you missed them because a few hours later they were dead.

But, let’s back up a bit. Because this day actually seemed to be going rather well. You managed to get a parking spot near the front of the lot and your locker actually opened on the first try. These little things seemed like victories and you were actually in a good mood when your friend Ruby came up to you.

“Did you hear about that new family? The Foremans?” Ruby asked, hitching her bag further up on her shoulder.

“Yeah. My dad helped them with a plumbing problem when they finished moving in last night. Apparently their house is super nice inside. Like, posh and belongs in a _Better Homes_ magazine.” You grabbed everything you needed from your locker and shut it. Together, you and Ruby started walking to your first class. “He said they’re probably richer than most of town put together.”

“I wonder if they have any cute kids our age. I could go for some high quality chocolate during Valentine’s Day. I mean, they don’t even have to be that cute. Money makes up for lack of attractive features.”

You laughed. “I don’t think they have kids our age. Dad said there were some pictures and it looked like they had a few kids, but they’re in their twenties or thirties.” You bumped Ruby’s shoulder with yours and grinned. “I asked, just for you. Gotta find you a sugar daddy or sugar momma somehow.”

“Damn straight,” she nodded seriously. Then she broke into a grin. “And we’ll find you a hunky lunk of hotness too, don’t worry.”

“_Hunky lunk of hotness?_ Seriously, Rubes?”

“What? It has a nice ring to it.”

“Gollum would probably think it had a nice _ring_ to it too, and look where he is,” you pointed out.

“In a book. A fictional book,” Ruby deadpanned.

You just shrugged. “Whatever. I know you can do better than _hunky lunk of hotness_.”

“I like it,” she defended.

“Fine. You can keep it. In fact,” you grinned and pulled out your phone. “I’m changing your name to that right now.”

She just laughed, not caring at all. That was what you liked about Ruby. She didn’t give a shit what other people thought of her. She did what she liked. “Make sure you put the muscle emoji and the heart eyes next to it.”

“Done.” You quickly typed everything out and saved her contact info. The first bell rang, so you and Ruby hurried into the classroom and sat down. While you waited for class to start, Ruby updated you on the conspiracy theories she’d discovered last night. She was obsessed with conspiracy theories. It wasn’t that she believed them, but she just loved the creativity and paranoia that went into them. It was like how most people are fascinated with serial killers, but Ruby loved conspiracy theorists.

Your good mood stuck around even when class began and Mr. Milligan began droning on about Watergate. You pretended to listen to him, but just kept a tally of how many times he dropped the dry erase marker or tripped over his own feet. He was the clumsiest teacher you ever met. You were thankful you had him for your last semester of high school because at least you had some entertainment while you were at school. Senioritis was kicking your ass.

“Y/N Y/L/N, to the main office,” the secretary’s voice came over the intercom, startling half the class awake. “Y/N to the office with your books.”

Ruby leaned over. “What’d you do this time?”

You just winked at her as you shoved everything in your bag. “The less you know, the better.”

Walking out of class early always felt like you were on the red carpet. Everyone watched enviously as you made the walk to freedom and you always felt the urge to wave and blow kisses. Anything that got you out of class was alright in your book.

But when you got to the office and saw the two police officers watching you sadly, you changed your mind.

* * *

Someone knocked on the door and you seriously considered ignoring them. You just finished your homework and wanted to watch Netflix for a few hours alone. In the two weeks since your parents had been murdered (the police said it was a suicide pact, but you knew your parents hadn’t killed themselves), it seemed like every single person in town came to visit you and offer their condolences. If you had to sit there and watch one more person hand you a casserole while trying not to cry, you might just kill them yourself. It was like everyone thought a chicken and green bean casserole would make everything okay.

The knock at the door came again, more insistent this time and you groaned, getting up from the couch. You yanked the door open. “What?”

“Y/N?” the man asked.

“Yeah?” You replied shortly. In another life, you would have tried to flirt with this very, _very_ attractive man. But your people skills had kind of fallen off in the last few weeks and you found that you really didn’t care anymore.

“I’m Dean Winchester. I was a friend of your dad’s.”

“Let me guess.” Your voice took on a sarcastic tone. “You think it’s _such a shame he died this way_ and _he didn’t deserve it_. _I’m too young to have lost both parents_.”

Dean’s jade eyes widened then narrowed at your bitterness.

You crossed your arms. “Look, I’ve heard it before. I’m sure I’ll hear it again. If you were really his friend, then I’m sorry that you lost him too, but don’t try and get any closure from me.”

You took a step back into the house and started to close the door, but Dean’s hand shot out to stop you. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there, sweetheart.”

“Or what?” You challenged, irritated at the pet name. “Look, I just lost my parents and I’m not really up for reminiscing or whatever the hell you’re looking for. If you want something from me, you better turn around and start walking right now. If you want to help, you can find the son of a bitch who did this to my family. Either way, this conversation is ending right now.”

“You think someone killed them? Everyone says it was a double suicide.”

“Well no one believes me,” you stepped further into the house and slowly inched the door closed. “So thanks for stopping by but—“

Dean took a step forward until his foot was on the threshold of the door. If you wanted to close the door, you would have to slam it on his foot, and you weren’t quite that annoyed yet. “I believe you, Y/N. And I _am_ trying to figure out who killed them, but I need your help.”

“You believe me?” You narrowed your eyes, at him. “Why would you be looking for their murderer? Are you a PI or FBI or something?”

Dean nodded his head slightly. “Something like that. I need to ask you a few questions, though.”

Still, you didn’t let him in. “You’re too young to be FBI. What are you, twenty-two? Twenty-three?”

“I started young.”

“Whatever,” you opened the door further, giving him permission to enter. He walked past you, surveying the living room as he walked in. You hung back, watching him walk around with his bow-legged gait that you found strangely attractive. “Looking for something?”

His head swung to you. “Weren’t you parents killed in this house?” You nodded. “And you live here alone?”

“I’m eighteen and I’d rather not move to Arizona where my mom’s best friend lives. These are my last few weeks of high school and I don’t want to have to start over.”

“And it doesn’t creep you out? Being here?” He motioned to the rest of the house.

“I don’t see how my answer will help you find the killer.”

Dean shrugged and walked closer. “I just thought being alone here would be a little scary. Strange noises, flickering lights… Not many people would want to stay in a house where someone was murdered.”

His words sparked a memory and you checked him out in this new light. “They weren’t killed by a ghost, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Hold up. What do you know about ghosts?”

“A poltergeist haunted our house when we first moved in when I was eight. Some guy named Rufus, like the naked mole rat on Kim Possible, came and got rid of it, but not until after it killed my baby brother. Trust me, I know what ghosts can do. This wasn’t a ghost.”

Dean digested this new information about you and you just waited for his reaction. If he was like Rufus, then he was only here because he thought something supernatural was going on. If some monster really had killed your parents that meant Dean could probably kill it and you could get your revenge. That’s why he believed you that they were murdered.

“Just because it wasn’t a ghost, doesn’t mean it’s not a monster,” Dean pointed out.

You rolled your eyes. You’d already gotten there yourself. You didn’t need him to point anything out. “Fine. How do we figure this out?”

“_I_ ask you some questions and _you_ stay here. _We_ are not doing anything.” Dean motioned between the two of you, shaking his head.

You crossed your arms and raised your chin. “Why? You don’t think I can handle it? Is it because I’m a girl, or because I’m so young? ‘Cause I’m not much younger than you and you don’t strike me as the misogynistic type.”

Dean seemed slightly taken aback by your hostility. “I’ve been doing this for years. I’m not going to risk your life—“

“_You_ aren’t risking my life. _I_ am. And if you don’t let me help, I’ll start my own investigation. Alone.”

“Look, Y/N. This isn’t Scooby Doo thing where we’ll find the monster and everyone is sure to be alive at the end. This is real life and it’s dangerous.”

You rolled your eyes again. “I know that, Dean. I had a poltergeist living in my house for two weeks. I lost my baby brother. I lost my parents. I know that it’s dangerous and I could get hurt. But whatever is out there killed my parents and I’m not just going to sit around if I can do anything about it. So like it or not, I’m going to help you or I’m going to do it by myself. The way I see it, if you want to make sure I don’t die, you’ll just have to let me help you.”

Dean’s eyes never left your face as he judged your sincerity and determination. Finally, he sighed and dragged a hand down his face in frustration. “I’m so going to regret this.”

You nearly smiled at your victory, but couldn’t quite make the corners of your lips draw up. “Great. Where do we start?”

* * *

“A wraith? Like from that 80s movie?” You asked, looking over Dean’s shoulder at the computer screen.

He looked over at you, seeming impressed by your reference. “Not quite. Wraiths look human and you can only see their true form in a reflection. They look kind of like Hollywood zombies. And they feed by using a spike that comes out of their wrist then make the deaths look like suicide.”

“What do they feed on?” You leaned closer to read the words on the website Dean had pulled up.

“Brain juice.”

“So they’re basically zombies dressed as humans.”

“Except they can cause hallucinations. There’s something about the chemicals in your brain that they can mess around with.” Dean turned to face you and you jerked back when you realized how close his face was to yours. You didn’t have time for any silly crushes. You had your parents’ deaths to avenge. Dean just smirked at your reaction, but didn’t comment. “Did your parents have any delusions or say anything weird in the days leading up to their deaths?”

“Uh,” you thought back. “No? They seemed pretty normal. I mean, my dad wanted to go buy some fancy recliner thing he saw at the Foreman’s house the night before. He didn’t ever use the one we had, so it wouldn’t have been much help. But nothing weirder than that.”

“And your mom?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

Dean and you spent the next few hours researching, but came up with nothing. You didn’t know where the wraith was. You didn’t know who the wraith was. You didn’t know anything besides that you were looking for a wraith.

Your phone started buzzing, but you ignored it. You didn’t feel like dealing with anyone right now, besides Dean. Dean glanced at your screen and raised an eyebrow. “Hunky lunk of hotness?”

Cheeks coloring, you grabbed your phone away from him. “It’s just my friend,” you muttered, mentally cursing your momentary good mood and Ruby’s infectious don’t-give-a-shit personality. You answered the call and walked away from Dean. “Hey Ruby.”

“Y/N. How’re you doing?”

Her concern made you want to puke, which probably wasn’t the best way to feel about your best friend. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Do you wanna come over tonight? We can marathon Harry Potter and create new Jelly Belly recipes.”

“Sorry, I can’t. One of my dad’s friends from out of town dropped by, so I have to play hostess tonight. But thanks.” Having an actual excuse helped you not feel guilty for avoiding her. Ruby meant well, you knew that. But she was walking on eggshells around you and it was driving you crazy.

“No problem. Later, then.”

“Sure. See ya.” You hung up and took a deep breath, fighting against the emotions that appeared suddenly. You didn’t have time to feel sad.

* * *

“Dean,” you hissed into your phone. “It’s here. It’s at the school.”

“Seriously? Who is it?”

You lowered your voice even more, knowing that the bathroom echoed like a cave. “It’s the new family; the dude who hired my dad to fix his plumbing. He’s a psychiatrist and he came to visit the school and I saw the reflection. You need to get here _now_.”

“I’m on my way.” You heard the sound of an engine revving and tried to relax. “Hey, Y/N. It’s a good thing you went to school today, huh?”

“Fuck you, Dean.” You and Dean had gotten in an argument that morning. You wanted to skip, but Dean was hellbent on you going, for some reason. You were sure it was just to get you out of harms’ way, but it was annoying anyway. He barely knew you and he was already ordering you around? What a dick.

Why the hell were you attracted to him?

“Oh sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”

“You wish, Winchester.” You looked at the time on your phone. “I gotta get back to class. He’s in room 306 right now. Hurry.”

You hung up and walked back to class, trying to act normal. The thing was, it wasn’t too hard to pretend like nothing weird was happening. It seemed like this really was any other day. Hunting monsters, killing them. You fit right in.

You looked around the classroom when you walked in, but you couldn’t see Mr. Foreman anywhere. You turned to the nearest student. “Where’d Mr. Foreman go?”

“He took Ruby home,” Garth replied. “She wasn’t feeling good.”

“What?” You heartbeat sped up. “Why would he take her home? The nurse is just down the hall and he’s not her parent or legal guardian.”

Garth’s eyebrows drew together, but you didn’t stick around to wait for him to figure anything out. You ran to the window just in time to see Ruby get into a fancy sports car and Mr. Foreman driving away. You raced out of the room and ran down the hallway, footsteps echoing against the metal lockers. You burst out of the building just as Dean’s black Impala pulled up. You didn’t give him the chance to even park; you just pulled the passenger door open and jumped in.

“He took Ruby. They went that way.”

“What?” Even as he asked, he pushed the gas pedal down and peeled out of the parking lot.

“Garth said Ruby wasn’t feeling well and Mr. Foreman took her home, but there’s no way that would fly if he hadn’t been doing that hallucination thing you said wraiths can do. There!” You pointed at the rear end of the sleek red car that the wraith was driving. “And Ruby was feeling great this morning, so I don’t know what happened.”

“I called my dad and he said most wraiths hang out at mental institutions because it’s easier to prey on people’s minds there. My guess is he doesn’t have a lot of options yet so he has to make his own victims.”

“Not Ruby,” you stated resolutely. “There’s no way I’m letting her die because of me.”

“Whoa, Y/N. This isn’t because of you.”

“_Ruby_ is. I don’t know why he went after my parents, but he went after Ruby because he knows. He knows I’m working with you. She’s one of the most strong-willed people I’ve ever met. There were at least a dozen other people in that room that would have been way easier to break.”

Dean took another turn at full speed, sending you crashing into the door.

“I think he’s going to his house,” you said, thinking about your mental map of the town.

“This is probably a trap if you’re right about Ruby.”

“Then we don’t go in through the front. There’s a forest on the east and north sides of his house. We can climb a tree and drop over the side of the fence.”

Dean looked sideways at you. “Have you done that before?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Take that next left and go about a quarter of a mile until we get to the first dirt road on the right.” Dean did as you said and you kept explaining. “Most of the houses on the outer edge of town are like that. I’ve had to sneak in and out of a lot of those houses at one point or another for my friends and parties and such. So how do we kill this thing?”

“Silver.”

“Silver? Where the hell are we supposed to get silver?” Your parents hadn’t even had real silver.

“I’ve got some knives in the trunk.” Dean turned onto the dirt road and you braced yourself this time so you didn’t go flying into him.

“Oh, right. Of course you do.”

He glanced at you with a half-smile. “It’s my job.”

“Perfect. Park just up there. We have to walk about an eighth of a mile.”

Dean parked and both of you got out. You waited while he opened his trunk and the big black box that was in the trunk. When he got the second one open, you gasped at the small arsenal. Dean grinned at you. “Told you, it’s my job.”

* * *

You and Dean had managed to get past the fence and into the house undetected.

Or so you thought.

As soon as you snuck past the back entryway, a hand shot out of a hallway and grabbed your shoulder, yanking you away from Dean.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Y/N,” Mr. Foreman hissed. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Where’s Ruby?” You growled, completely ignoring the sharp prick of his spike behind your ear. Dean pointed a gun at the two of you and you tried to think of a way to get the small silver knife you had hidden in your pocket just in case you lost the other one. Which you had when Mr. Foreman grabbed you. Less than three minutes into your first hunt and you were already down a weapon. Great.

“Marinating.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Dean,” Mr. Foreman shook his head and clicked his tongue as he changed the subject. “You should know that guns won’t work on me.”

“Silver bullets.” The muscles around Dean’s mouth tightened and he shifted his stance so his feet were further apart.

“What the hell do you mean _marinating_?” You slowly inched your hand toward your pocket, but were overcome with a nauseating sense of vertigo.

“I wouldn’t try that, if I were you,” the wraith warned menacingly. He retrieved the knife with a gloved hand and kicked it away. “Your friend is perfectly safe right now. She just thinks she’s going crazy. Tastier that way. Would you like to see her?”

“You sick bastard,” You muttered around your clenched teeth, trying not to vomit from the vertigo.

It seemed you were at a stalemate. Dean couldn’t get at the wraith without going through you, you couldn’t do anything, and Mr. Foreman needed you to ensure his safety. You locked eyes with Dean, trying to come up with a plan, but then a small voice completely distracted you.

“Y/N? Izzat you?”

“Jack?” You gasped, trying to look for the source of your little brother’s voice. You knew he was dead. He had been for ten years. But at the moment, you completely forgot. He was here. Jack was here and alive. “Jack, where are you?”

Dean shifted his weight, but kept his eyes on you. “Y/N, there’s no one there.”

“It’s Jack! Dean, he’s alive!” From behind Dean, a small three year old boy toddled out of a room and Mr. Foreman’s grip on you slackened just enough for you to tear free and run at your brother. Dean yelled for you and there was a commotion behind you, but all of your focus was on your brother. As soon as you reached him, he disappeared into thin air. You stared at the spot where he disappeared from for a moment before whirling around. “Where’d he g—oh, god.”

Dean was being held at gunpoint by his own gun. Mr. Foreman had kicked all of Dean’s knives over to yours. A bitter taste coated your tongue when you realized what had happened.

“That wasn’t real, was it? It was just a decoy.”

The wraith shook his head and your heart broke. Jack had seemed so real. “Your parents didn’t catch on quite so quickly.”

“You did this to my parents?” You yelled. Your feet started moving towards him with no plan other than to kill him, but he took the safety off the gun and one look at Dean halted you. You couldn’t do anything to endanger him.

“I spent all night with them. It’s so much more fun when you can play two people at once.”

“This is how you get your kicks?” Dean asked gruffly, angrily. “Making people think they’re crazy? You’re sicker than I thought.”

You heard your mother’s voice calling for you and you flinched, almost turning to look behind you, but you managed to hold off. “She’s not real. You killed her. She’s dead.”

Mr. Foreman grinned. “And everyone said Ruby was the smartest out of the two of you. She gave in with just a little touch on the shoulder. Your parents were easy too. And they were so much fun. Making them think you were in your room, screaming all night. Having little Jack banging on their door, crying to be let in.”

“You son of bitch,” you growled.

“Maybe. After all, I did kill my own mother. She really was a bitch. But yours wasn’t. Is that why you’re still stuck in denial? Two weeks later and you still haven’t grieved.” He tsked. “You should know that you’ll never be able to move on. Your dear mother would have wanted you to move on.”

“When you’re dead it won’t matter.” You pushed back the itch of tears behind your eyes.

“Is that how you feel too, Dean?” Mr. Foreman asked casually, as if this were an appointment in his office and he was trying to understand you. “Once you and your father find the thing that killed your mother you can get back to your lives? Why don’t you take a page from Sammy’s book and get out now? Go to college and live a normal life?”

For a brief moment, you thought you saw movement behind Mr. Foreman, but then the world tipped and you stumbled against a wall, trying to stay upright. You heard someone scream, but everything was getting blurry and the noises were getting softer and softer. There was a tangle of bodies next to you and, just before your world went dark everything snapped back into focus.

You shook your head to clear it and looked around. Ruby was holding one of the silver knives, looking like a frightened puppy. Dean was kneeling over the wraith’s body with another knife sunk deep into its chest. The wound was smoking a little and you gaped at them. “What happened?”

“I-I-I,” Ruby paused to take a deep breath. “I heard people talking and came out and…” She looked at the body, horrified.

“She scratched it. It got distracted enough for me to kill it.” Dean grinned up at Ruby, trying to calm her down. “Good work, kid.”

“Th-thank y—Who are you calling a kid?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

Ah, yes. There she was. Ruby was back. She was okay, the wraith was dead. Everything had worked out.

* * *

“Who’s Sam?” You asked once you dropped Ruby off at her house.

“My brother. He’s about your age, actually,” Dean glanced at you for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly before looking back at the road. “Quit the life to go to college.”

“Where is he?” Now that you knew for sure your parents had been murdered, and that the thing that murdered them was dead, you didn’t know what to do with yourself and you needed any distractions you could find.

“Stanford. Pre-law.” There was a melancholic tone of pride in his voice and you just looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to expound. “My family’s been through a lot. And Sam just took off. Our dad’s pretty pissed at him.”

You wanted to ask about his mom, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pry. He would be leaving soon, and there was no reason he would tell a complete stranger such personal things.

Dean cleared his throat. “You know, I lost my mom too. I know what that can do to you.”

Even though you had wanted to know, you were suspicious about him just offering you the information. Where was he going with this? He pulled up to your house and turned off his car, but didn’t move. You just waited.

“When I was five, my mom died in a house fire. But something had caused that fire. My dad said she was on the ceiling and the fire started from her. We’ve been looking for that thing that killed her ever since.”

“I’m… sorry?” You still weren’t sure why he was telling you this.

He turned to face you, resting his arm across the back of the bench seat. His deep green eyes locked on yours. “I’ve seen good people torn apart when people they love die.”

You rolled your eyes. Now you understood. “Well, I’m fine.”

Dean put his hand on your arm when you turned to open the car door. “No. You’re not. It’s okay to admit that.”

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes, but you turned to anger instead and whirled around on him. “No, it’s not okay! I lost my parents. I lost my brother. I’m all alone, Dean. You have your brother and dad, but I don’t have anyone! I’m on my own and I can’t waste my time feeling sorry for myself. I _have_ to move on.”

Dean reached up and wiped at something on your cheek. When his hand came away from your face, you saw that it was wet. You swiped at your cheeks only find them damp with tears. It was as if a floodgate had been opened and suddenly you couldn’t stop crying. Dean drew you into his arms while your body shook with two weeks’ worth of tears. You let him comfort you, clutching to his leather jacket like a lifeline.

* * *

“Vampires?”

“Nah. Werewolves are real, though. They’re badass.”

You and Dean were sitting on your couch, drinking beer that he bought earlier and talking about the supernatural world. He had stayed a few days after the wraith was dead, claiming that he needed a vacation. But you could tell he stayed just to make sure you were okay, though you didn’t understand why. You didn’t care, though. It was nice having him here.

“How can werewolves be real, but vampires not be real?”

Dean just shrugged and finished off his beer, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table and slid closer to you, pulling your legs over his. “You know, if you really want to learn about these things, you should come on the road with me.”

You nearly choked on your last mouthful of beer. “What?”

“Yeah. You’re not half bad. With a little training, you could make a great hunter. The way you stood up to the wraith. You’ll be good.” Dean watched your reaction with bright eyes, enjoying seeing you caught off guard.

“Won’t-won’t your dad have something to say about it?”

He shrugged again. “Our job is to make sure people are safe. I have a feeling you won’t be able to let this go, so what better way to make sure you’re safe than keep you close?”

“I—wow.” You _had_ been planning on learning to hunt, but you hadn’t expected Dean to offer you a position by his side. “I’m not sure your dad really meant it like that.”

Dean grinned and slid closer. “Maybe that was a stretch, but I do have a few more reasons I want you to come along.”

His arm slid from the back of the couch to your shoulders and your heart sped up as he leaned closer. Your voice was close to a whisper. “And what would those reasons be?”

Dean lowered his lips to yours, kissing you softly. “Purely selfish reasons.”

You smiled and kissed him with more force. His arms wrapped around you, hauling you against his chest. You shifted so you were straddling his legs. Breathing hard, you pulled back. “I’m still not sure I should come with you.”

“I’m sure I can convince you,” Dean growled. With a devilish grin, he set to work changing your mind.


End file.
